The Dirty Twat Twirlers Club

When Ben's sister, Brenda, started bringing Donna Del Vecchio around to the house again, he felt only disgust. They had both just turned nineteen and were newly graduated from some six month nursing school, so this, apparently, was their summer of liberation. Now he had to put up with all their antics as they ran around the house in their cut-off jeans and swimsuits. But this had always been their modus operandi.

He remembered Donna Del Vecchio from high school. She and Brenda were sophomores when he was a senior. They had both belonged to this weird clique of flag twirlers that would go around for weeks without washing their hair. They were also famous for their stunts, one of which was urinating behind the practice field bleachers while they stood in their flag twirler skirts and pulled their underwear to one side. This had been the initiation ritual, he guessed.

His sister seemed to like these strange people and strange behaviors. He, on the other hand, couldn't have been more repelled. When he passed them in the hall he would be sure not to look their way. He had a very high opinion of himself even then, and his current position as a student at a leading technical university lead him to believe he had been right in this assessment all along.

When Donna Del Vecchio first arrived, Ben saw she had changed very little since high school. She burst through the front door dressed in the same cheesy push up bra and dirty looking jeans that he remembered. When she saw him she gave him a sardonic smile.

"Well, well, if it isn't big brother, Ben!" she proclaimed sarcastically.

"Hello." Was Ben's simple, but dismissive reply as he continued past her.

"Still got the old stick up his ass I see!" Donna immediately cracked in a not so whispered aside to Brenda.

"Yeah, thinks he's Bill Gates in training!" Brenda replied laughing.

Over the next few weeks Ben watched as Brenda and Donna Del Vecchio paraded a retinue of strange characters through his parent's house. One day it was an effeminate Latino guy that they took up to Brenda's room for what sounded like a wild party. The laughter and noise became so loud that Ben was even forced at one point to investigate. He walked down to her bedroom and listened at the door for several minutes and overheard what sounded like the guy's girlish pleadings.

"Oh my god! No! I can't breathe!" he heard him say while panting.

What the hell are they doing in there?! Ben wondered.

Another day, Susan, a girl he remembered as one of their flag twirler gang, showed up with her boyfriend, and Donna, Brenda and the two of them spent the morning playing around the pool while Ben tried to read his computer programming text from a nearby lounge chair. Ben peered surreptitiously over his book occasionally as the four of them ran amuck. Donna Del Vecchio led the action as usual in her bleach-stained, brown bikini. She and Susan were arm in arm doing high kicks like chorus girls at one point as the others cheered and whistled. Ben couldn't help but watch as the two former flag twirlers extended their strong, tanned legs high into the air exposing their barely covered twats. He noticed Donna's tits were almost bouncing out of her bikini top each time she brought one of her legs down to the concrete and there seemed to be overgrown pubic hair projecting from the sides of her bikini bottoms. This only confirmed Ben's long held beliefs about her. She was weird and nasty.

Later that day there was more uproarious laughter coming from Brenda's bedroom. The four of them were in there, obviously. Occasionally he heard the voice of the boyfriend, whining in a baby-like way. He got up and went to her door again and listened. Through the giggles and snorts he heard his sister's voice.

"Does the little boy surrender yet?" she asked.

Then he heard the whining of the boyfriend again. He felt a huge lump form in his throat as he imagined the scene inside.

"Is the smelly twat gonna make him cry?" he heard Donna ask in a pouty voice.

These words made Ben's face flush with heat. He decided he had had enough.

"Can you guys keep it down in there!" he commanded as he banged forcefully on the door.

The room went silent. Ben waited a moment.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." He said before returning to his room.

But after he sat back down at his desk the annoyance and anger lingered and he deliberated kicking them all out of the house just on principal.

"Fucking sluts." he said under his breath as he shook his head.

A few days later Ben found a pair of women's panties on the floor when he went into the upstairs bathroom. They had a leopard-skin print and were visibly stained. They looked like they had been rolled down quickly and kicked off without a thought. Since Donna Del Vecchio, with his parent's permission, was now sleeping over regularly, he realized at once they were hers. He stood over them for several minutes trying to process his feelings. Then he reached down slowly and picked them up. They were amazingly light and soft, he thought, as he brought them up in front of his face. But then the sight of the stained, white cotton crotch made him grimace. What a foul, dirty ass bitch! He thought. He set the panties down on the counter and washed his hands before commencing to sit down on the toilet for his morning movement. But as he sat there, mental images kept popping up in his mind that deeply disturbed him. He kept seeing Donna Del Vecchio stripping down in from of him, just as she had done when she cast her underwear off there in the bathroom. He wondered how it was that she could go around with a dirty ass, the way she did? Then a sick thought came to him. What if that was the way she liked it?

He looked back at the panties and realized he might never have an opportunity like this again. He reached out and took them from the counter and held them in his palm. No, she liked having a dirty ass, he thought. Then he closed his eyes and brought them up to his nose cautiously.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he experienced next as Donna Del Vecchio's ass and cunt musk rose up into his brain, reawakening his most atavistic and elemental self. They seemed to bring back an ancient memory of basic, primal fucking.

Ben became scared and confused and rock hard all at once as his cock began to rise without the slightest manipulation of his hand. Soon it was at its full aching length, cantilevered up over the toilet seat. The panties under his nose were now in full control of his mind and body it seemed as he drifted from one cloud to the next. In his mind he saw Donna smothering that Latin guy with her ass, bouncing gently on his face at first and then more forcefully encapsulating him. Then he saw her ass smothering Susan's boyfriend as he cried out for air. But she was cruel and kept him down there whimpering. Yes, Donna Del Vecchio's dirty cunt had that much power he concluded as his nose drew in her potent bouquet once more like the sweet narcotic it was.

He then realized he was stroking himself with his mind floating somewhere above the scene. There was no conscious intent anymore, only bare instinct. He closed his eyes and imagined his cock buried in her ripe ass, sliding down easily into its firm resistance, and as he did, his semen spewed up in several high arcs onto the tiled floor.

When it was over, Ben tossed the reeking panties under the sink cabinet and cleaned his cum off the floor in guilty confusion.

The week that followed was lost to him. He went to school, but couldn't concentrate on a thing. Donna's stained and smelly panties were all he could focus on. He masturbated to them each day in the bathroom when he got home, dreading each time that they would not be in their place under the sink for him to use. But then the unthinkable happened one day while he was on one of his ass musk-induced mental journeys and slapping his meat vigorously; his sister walked in on him.

"Oh my god!" she called out in disgust, before quickly reclosing the door.

Ben's mind crashed in terror as he reflexively grabbed for something to cover himself with.

"Don't you believe in fucking knocking!" he shouted through the door.

The implications of this privacy violation rocked him. She had seen everything! His dick in his hand! The panties under his nose! The whole twisted portrait! What was left for him to do? He could always relocate to the Balkans, he thought.

"Fuck it!" he finally concluded, before pulling up his pants and stuffing the panties into the pocket of his jeans.

For the next week he stayed in his room and kept the panties under his pillow. Depression seized his mind. They all knew about him now, but he could at least avoid Donna Del Vecchio until summer vacation was over, he figured.

But the knock of the law eventually sounded on his door one morning.

"Ben, its Donna. Can I talk to you?" came her voice from the hall.

A surge of terror shot up Ben's back. After another minute she knocked again.

"Ben, can you return my panties please?" she politely requested.

Ben went to his bed, grabbed the panties from under his pillow and stood there holding them to his chest.

"Ben, I know you've got them." She continued.

Why was she doing this, he wondered? Wasn't it enough that he had to hide away like an animal now?

"Okay, can you at least leave them in the bathroom?" she requested again.

What were a pair of underwear worth, for god's sake, he thought?! Did she really expect him to turn them over to her now?!

"I don't have your fucking underwear!" he shouted, "So leave me alone!"

"Look Ben, I understand how you feel." She replied with real empathy, "Can you please open the door?"

The sincerity in her voice suddenly made him feel less strange and he felt compelled to comply. He stuffed her panties in his pocket and moved to the door. He opened it and there stood Donna Del Vecchio in her bathing suit.

"Come in." he said, his eyes cast to the floor.

"Thanks, Ben."

He had never experienced this kind of respectful tone from her before and it made him think that perhaps she really did understand him. She walked in and boldly sat down on his bed.

"Ben, I want to apologize." She started.

"Apologize?"

"Yes, I've been wrong about you. I used to think you were an uptight asshole."

Ben found a chair and sat down cautiously.

"Oh?" he replied.

"Yeah, but now I see that we have a lot in common." She said smiling.

Ben crossed his arms.

"How's that?"

"Come on, Ben. You love to smell twat."

"What?!" he replied with obvious fake surprise, shocked by the directness of her approach.

Donna Del Vecchio looked down and shook her head.

"Okay Ben, let me give it to you straight." she said, "I don't believe in white bread love or white bread sex or white bread anything. I hate all that vanilla shit! Life is art, Ben, and we are the ones who paint the canvas. So Ben, tell me, what do you want your world to be?"

Ben could only stare at her dully.

Come on, Ben! You study all that high tech shit and where does it take you? Does it bring you to a higher truth? No. Because all you really want to do is sniff stinky panties."

He became red-faced as her words ripped through him like little cutting knives.

"And I know you can't help it. You just get off on it. Am I wrong?"

Ben's respiration quickened and he began to tremble slightly.

"Isn't that why you stole my panties?"

Was she taunting him now? Ben wasn't sure so he only shook his head in reply.

"Brenda said she caught you jerking off with them."

His face began to fill with hot blood now.

"I really admire that," she said as she spread her legs and straightened them outward onto the floor, "That you know about the finer things in life."

Ben's eyes were transfixed, pulled down to her bikini bottoms that where wholly inadequate to cover her unruly, dark-haired twat.

"Where you listening at the door the other day?" she asked him, "When we were in the bedroom with Kenny?"

Ben's heart started pounding in his brain. Did they know he was there the whole time?!

"Kenny likes to get dominated." She continued, "He likes to be forced into doing stuff."

Donna shifted in a cat-like way just then to a squatting position on the floor, her arms back, bracing against the bed. Ben watched her and then the scene in the bedroom that day began to materialize. He saw Donna pushing her stinking ass crack over Kenny's nose and whining mouth. He saw her sneer-like smile of satisfaction as she held her stench around him in the same squatting position she was in now. He saw Brenda and Susan getting down on the floor on each side of Kenny to have a better look at the spectacle.

"So we made him cry that day." she said as she let her butt settle to the floor, her feet still pulled in close.

Ben looked down at her groin and saw the round muscles of her ass cheeks protruding out of her bikini.

"How did you do that?" he asked tensely, "Make him cry, I mean."

Donna's dark eyes became suddenly devious and her smile was self-satisfied.

"I faced him."

This statement almost made him shutter.

"Faced?" he asked.

"Ben, come on, we were just having some fun! Don't get so weirded out about it!" she said with a disturbing nonchalance.

He cast his eyes downward again and hated himself for his straight-laced attitudes.

"Ben, if you're interested in the real experience...I mean, it's better than sniffing dirty panties." she assured him.

He wasn't sure how to feel now. Her words were liberating him, but they were also demeaning him.

"You would "face" me? He asked her.

"Ben, you can't go around jerking off to shitty panties all your life!"

"No." he replied thoughtfully, but not quite confidently.

With this Donna Del Vecchio stood up and casually pulled her bikini bottoms down, her eyes never diverting from his face. She stepped out of them and kicked them to one side.

"Ben, lay down here." She instructed, pointing to a place in front of her feet.

For Ben, Donna's naked legs and exposed sex parts were enough to make him comply. He slid down off the chair and stretched out on his back, his eyes never diverting from her overgrown crotch.

"Arms back over your head." She commanded.

Ben did as he was directed and for the first time felt the pleasure of being completely submissive to a woman. He stared up at her full-thighed nakedness passively and saw that the power of her legs was even more exaggerated from this low angle. Her butt protruded out and showed a bit of cellulite from this vantage point as well. She stepped over him to a position just above his chest and gazed down at her new supplicant.

"I haven't washed my twat since Thursday, Ben. I hope you don't mind."

Ben's eyes rolled back in his head and he let out a strange-sounding groan, as if the very idea of her stink could immobilize his mind.

"Good," she replied, "I'm glad we're on the same page here."

Then she turned around and squatted down over his face, putting her moistly torrid, hair-lined ass crack right on the bridge of his nose. She gripped the front of his belt for balance, turned her face to the ceiling and smiled broadly.

"How do you like it, Ben?" she asked excitedly as she clamped her butt muscles around his face.

Ben's senses were too inundated at this point for his brain to process language. He was caught in the center of Donna Del Vecchio's sexual essence and he was teetering between mindless panic and extreme euphoria. Her ass was as he remembered it from her panties, rich and heady with traces of fertile earth after rainfall. He pushed his nose into all of it as his breathing became loud and labored.

Oh god! I love sitting on face, Ben!" she blurted in a thrilled tone, "I always wondered how that nose of yours would feel under me."

As Ben groaned, she rotated her hips and pushed her pungent twat down firmly over his lips.

"Lick that nasty cunt!" she implored him.

She began rocking over him now, holding onto his belt with two hands like she was riding a racehorse. He tried to keep his tongue on her sour pussy meat the best he could, but her thrusting made it almost impossible.

"Better than those panties, huh?!" she cried out.

Ben now realized she was a fanatic about receiving head from a position of control. With her wet asshole moving against his nose and her excited cunt pressed just beneath it, Ben was getting the dual effect of all her heady secretions. There was the musky oil of her rear end, combined with the aged poon and pungent stale piss of her twat fighting for dominance over his olfactory system. His mind tumbled back in time, back to the Ottoman harems where strong tobacco hung in the air and dark haired beauties luxuriated with their thickly overgrown cunts exposed.

"You like that dirty pussy?!" she asked breathlessly, her voice emerging through the smoke.

Ben could only reply by letting out almost involuntary, deep, muffled grunts now. Her ass and pussy were covering him in their ancestral juices and the tip of his nose had become the instrument of penetration. The growing immediacy of her need sent him off again to the bordellos of old Paris where beastly looking men fucked the whores like savages. He wanted to be one of those men. He wanted to reach down and stroke himself madly at that moment, but that was impossible in the position he was in.

"Aw yeah! You ready for your bath, Benny?!" she called out.

Now she became a wild Grecian mistress with a soaked cunt who cared nothing for the pain of her slave.

"Ohh Benny!" she yelled out in a quivering voice, "Here I come!"

Ben was amazed by how quickly it was all happening. He was forced to take air in desperate gulps now as her greedy twat smashed into his nose and mouth with mindless abandon. Then he felt her powerful anal and vaginal muscles begin to contract over his face.

Donna Del Vecchio let out a cry that sounded almost banshee-like as her expression contorted into a somewhat ugly, purse-lipped mask.

"Ewwww!" she bellowed as she concentrated on the face she was cumming all over.

The orgasm rolled on for almost half a minute before Ben felt the first hot blast break against his nose and eyes. Then another came. And then another. Finally the squirts came to an end in a trickle.

"Oh my god!" Donna Del Vecchio exclaimed as she fell forward on top of him in a heap. But Ben could only lie there in the surrender position with his eyes closed, his face now a stinking, piss-covered mess.

After a few minutes Donna Del Vecchio was able to get up on all fours and when she did she noticed her panties hanging out of Ben's front pocket. She repossessed them and then gained her feet shakily. After she put her bikini bottoms back on she started for the door.

"You're okay in my book, Bennie." she said without looking back.

Ben lay there for several more minutes trying to fathom what had just occurred. His eyes were stinging from the urine and he was unable to open them. His nose was numb and vaginal fluid had been pushed up into his nostrils. His hair on the sides of his head was drenched. In fact his entire head was lying in a puddle of Donna Del Vecchio's piss.

He sat up and tried to wipe his eyes with his shirt. Was this what happened when a woman had an orgasm, he wondered? He decided he needed a shower. He got a towel from the closet and headed for the bathroom. However just as he was going in he heard laughter from Brenda's bedroom. He moved to her door quietly. Donna's voice was the only one he heard.

"...and all he could do was grunt!" she said as the others fought to suppress their snickering, "Then I really soaked him good!"

After a long period of laughter he heard their voices come together.